What Mal didn't know when he let William "Spike" Pratt and Drusilla Keeble on board Serenity is that the out-of-work renaissance man and his half-mad girlfriend are vampires! Thankfully, there's a Slayer aboard the vessel as well. Canon Firefly parings. Post "Objects in Space". BtVS Season 2-ish Spike/Dru. DISCONTINUED/PERMANENT HIATUS.

A/N: Welcome to 'Morbid and Creepifyin', my Firefly/Buffy cross-over. This takes place in a slightly AU 'Verse... basically the only difference is the presence of Buffyverse demons (vampires, vengeance demons, maybe even some of the loose-skinned Clem variety...). All Firefly crew members are present (i.e. Book, Inara, and Tam siblings are still permanent crew, pre-Serenity film, ignores any events of the comics). Our favorite punk vampire couple are their season 2 embodiments: Dru is recently weakened, à la mob, and Spike is in full Big Bad regalia, the lover and the fighter. This story will occasionally take quotes from BtVS Season 2 and Firefly/Serenity. Enjoy and please review!

Chapter 1: Passage

"We ready to push off?" Mal calls through the heavy rain. He stands on the gangplank of Serenity, hollering at Wash and Jayne as they lash the last of their fresh supplies in the cargo hold.

"You know you done jinxed us, you nitwit," glowers Jayne, already stomping towards the common area. "Go shake some salt or some such."

"Since when did you get all superstitious?" Wash chuckles, joining him.

Alone in the cargo bay, Mal stomps up the ramp and takes shelter inside. One after another, he pulls off his boots and pours out the collected rainwater, ready for a hot meal – straight protein, what else? – and a fresh change of clothes.

"Oi, there... half a moment, sir. You the captain what put out an advertisement?"

Mal turns at the accented voice and sees a thin young man with startlingly blond hair waiting at the edge of the pier. He's cloaked in a black leather duster and has one arm around a dainty-looking, dark haired woman, whose face is hidden against the man's shoulder.

"No, Cap'n, my Dru's just a weak little thing. Always has trouble adjustin' from planet to planet. Space works wonders on her."

He bestows a little kiss on Dru's dark hair, and she titters softly, sliding her hand in a sensuous circle over his stomach.

"Well, uh... what'd you have in mind?" asks Mal, mentally inventorying the spare rooms left in Serenity. "Got a passenger cabin vacant, or a shuttle if you shell out a bit more dough, n'case you have a hankering to go planet-side on occasion. What can you pay?"

"What's your askin' price on the passenger cabin, sir?"

Mal shrugs. "Three hundred a month. But I'm a reasonable man..."

To his surprise, the blond stranger doesn't even wince at the suggested rate, but instantly rifles through an inner pocket of his duster and unearths a handful of crumpled Alliance credits. In doing so, Mal gets enough of a glance at the man's torso to see he's got no weapon strapped to his hip.

"I can put up enough quid for three months' down-payment," says Will, taking his first full step onto Serenity's loading ramp, the woman at his side, her playing hands barely keeping to decent places.

"That there's a mighty fine offer, boy," Mal replies, crossing his arms. Not even an attempt to bargain the price down... either the professed writer is a gen-u-ine tenderfoot – a real dandy like Simon – or he's got the best poker face in the 'Verse and something right unseemly he's hiding.

"Like I said, Captain, love seein' what space does to my girl," Will shrugs, arm tightly wrapped around the frail but smiling woman.